Winter Amaranthine
by kidneyofcapaldi
Summary: A chance encounter with the Winter Soldier evolves into something more- but love has no foundation without history. And how can history exist without memory? Winter Soldier x OC, possible eventual AU.
1. Concurrence

**A/N: Amidst my adventures through the interwebs, I noticed there was a distinct lack of non-slash Winter Soldier fanfics. This is my remedy to that situation. :) Enjoy!**

_"God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December."_

_~ J.M. Barrie_

"You have got to be kidding me," Avery muttered as she slapped her hands on the car's dashboard in aggravation.

This was the third time this week that her beat-up Camaro had broken down on her way home from work. When she had received the used car for her sixteenth birthday a couple years back, she had been thrilled. She had spent about an hour just admiring it in all its paint-chipped glory. Now, however, she had to pause a minute to dramatically question the sky, _Why me?_

Tripping clumsily in her annoyance, Avery threw the door open, careful to watch for any cars speeding by that might clip her. Traffic in D.C. could be brutal, and crazy drivers were an all-too-common thing to encounter. She traipsed around to the front of the car and yanked the hood open, only to be greeted with a face-full of steam.

"Ugh."

She took a quick step back and waited for the smoke to clear. Leaning over the open cavity, Avery looked around a moment, then quickly decided she had no idea what she was doing. She suppressed a bitter laugh at her own incompetence before pulling her cell phone out to call her mom.

Avery closed the hood and leaned up against the car as she listed to the phone ringing on the other end. She ventured a glance around, and noted with discomfort that her car had chosen to break down in one of the more sketchy parts of the city. The fact that the sun was beginning to set did not make her feel any better.

"Your call has been forwarded to an automated answering machine. The number you dialed is not available. Please leave a message at the tone."

Avery heaved a frustrated sigh before composing herself to leave the message. Her hand wandered up to get tangled in her tight brown curls, a habit she had when she was nervous.

"Mom, it's me. The car broke down again, I need you to come get me. I'm on Southeast Capitol Street, right next to the Thai restaurant. And please hurry, because I'm a little freaked out. See you soon?"

Avery hung up, and noted with distaste that she had somehow gotten oil on her jeans. She looked around again, not even attempting to brush it off. To her left, a handful of men sat on the steps of an apartment. A few glanced her way, but they seemed to not have any interest in her as they talked among themselves. On her other side, she was greeted by multiple storefronts that lined the road.

What felt like hours passed. Avery didn't dare move from her spot on the hood of the car, fearing that her mom would drive right by if she wasn't visible. It was getting darker and darker. The traffic had thinned out, and the men she had seen on the steps earlier had gone inside. Avery gnawed at her nails, and again looked furtively around, still nervous about her predicament.

She picked up her cell to try calling her mom again. As she entered the passcode to access her contacts, a metal glint in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

She looked up, and zeroed in on a haggard man about twenty feet away, stumbling his way across the street. He looked slightly dazed, as if he had just been in a fight. Brown hair hung in his face, and he wore a military style jacket. A pistol was strapped to his thigh. But all of this Avery noticed later. For the first thing she saw was a gleaming metal arm that hung at his side.

Her eyes widened as he flexed his metallic fingers. It was no ordinary prosthetic-it moved and worked so well that, for a moment, Avery thought he just had some kind of tin foil sheet wrapped around his arm. But as she watched, she heard a mechanical whirring that resembled a broken piece of machinery. Upon closer inspection, it seemed that the metallic arm was dented and cracked in a few places. His good hand clutched the upper part of the arm, as if to keep it from malfunctioning.

His foot dragged behind him as he walked, and even from a distance, Avery thought she could see blood seeping through his pant leg at the thigh. Something was very wrong.

She was so absorbed in watching the strange man that she barely noticed as a green van came speeding down the street. The force of the car ripping by caused her to leap off the hood of her Camaro. Her stomach lurched. The van was heading right for the man in the street, who had become painfully slow in his attempts to cross. It showed no sign of stopping or changing course.

Before she could even think, she was running toward the man, yelling, "LOOK OUT!_ HEY! _THERE'S A C-"

The man's head jerked up. His eyes locked onto the car speeding toward him.

Faster than Avery could contemplate, he catapulted off the ground, flipping in mid-air over the van. Time slowed. His metal fingers scraped the roof as it sped under him. He landed again in the street, cracking the pavement with the force of his descent.

His shoulders rose and feel once, twice, before he looked up toward the direction of the voice that had warned him.

Avery stood, wide-eyed, almost in the middle of the street, mouth hanging open. Her curls whipped around her face in the wake of the van, which was continuing its course at breakneck speed down the street. Their eyes locked. The man slowly stood up, never breaking his stare.

His eyes were cold, clear, and jarring. Normally, their shade of blue would have been thought of as beautiful, but to Avery, they were unnervingly empty. No trace of emotion flickered across his face.

A tingle at the base of her spine gave her the feeling that this man was someone who should not be seen. He belonged in the shadows, an echo, a deadly whisper. She fought the urge to turn and run away.

A car horn sounded right behind her, making her jump about fifty feet into the air. She spun and saw that her mom had finally arrived. Avery waved in distracted relief. She turned back to where the man had stood.

But he had already gone.


	2. Disclosure

**A/N: The real action starts next chapter. Buckle up.**

_"The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery."_

_~Anaïs Nin_

The ride home was not entirely pleasant, as Avery's mom had been forced to leave her job at the hospital early to come pick her daughter up. Avery sat silently in the passenger seat as she ranted, still thinking about her encounter with the odd stranger in the street. She said nothing to her mom, who was too preoccupied with chewing her out to notice how quiet she was being.

Their car pulled up to the small apartment Avery called home. She wasted no time in running upstairs. Taking a hot shower always helped her clear her head, so she cranked on the water and waited for it to warm up. While she waited, she looked in her bathroom mirror. She ways greeted by the familiar sight of green eyes and wild hair. She was tall for a girl, and not as skinny as she wished, but she wasn't unattractive. She poked at her nose, examining her faint freckles. With a small shrug, Avery sighed and jumped into the shower, relishing how the water melted the day's anxiety from her frame.

She emerged some moments later, hair dripping, and turned on the TV in her room. The pink walls and cluttered atmosphere put her at ease as she flopped on the bed and disinterestedly flipped through the channels.

Her eyelids were just getting heavy when a familiar figure flickered briefly on the screen.

Avery quickly went back. There, on the TV, was a news clip of Captain America fighting someone in the street earlier that day- someone with a gleaming metal arm.

She shuffled closer to the TV, eyes wide, and cranked up the volume.

"...still unsure exactly who or what this masked stranger is. At least twenty-six bystanders were injured or killed during the fight, and several people are still missing. S.H.I.E.L.D. has refused to speak about the matter, and Captain America is nowhere to be found. We will keep you posted on updates as they happen. Back to you, Jim."

Avery's eyes were glued to the screen. As she watched the video, the man with the metal arm flipped his knife in mid-air and continued his flurry of attacks on Cap. Punches and kicks flew with such a fury that Avery could barely tell whose limbs were whose. During the struggle, the man's mask was pulled off. The quality was grainy- it was probably from someone's cell phone camera- but Avery could see just enough to recognize the empty blue eyes she had seen earlier that day.

She stopped breathing. She had been that close to someone who could hold his own with Captain America, the world's greatest soldier, without batting an eye.

In the video, Captain America gave pause as he saw the man's face, and the two exchanged words that could not be heard. Someone offscreen fired at the man, and he sprinted off. A bunch of black vans screeched into the shot, and men dressed like S.W.A.T. agents poured out. Captain America and a man with- metal wings?- dropped to their knees.

The video clip switched to one that seemed to have been shot from a helicopter. Avery watched as a man in black held a gun to the Captain's head, but, noticing the news chopper, instead ushered the captives into a nearby van. They drove away, and the clip was over.

Head still reeling, Avery realized that she must have seen the man with the metal arm right after the video had been shot.

She turned the TV off, and ran a hand through her hair. She sat on her bed in thought for a long time. An idea struck her, making her vacate her spot on the creaky mattress and go to the wicker chair in front of her computer.

"Man with metal arm, Captain America," she mumbled as she typed the words into her search engine. She hit enter. Immediately, hundreds of articles about the day's events showed up on the screen. She scrolled and scrolled, painstakingly reading through every one. But none of the articles offered anything further than what the news had said.

She was just about to turn the computer off, when a blog title caught her attention.

"The Winter Soldier: Fact or Fiction?" Avery read. She clicked on the link, and instantly she was met with an onslaught of grainy photos and crackpot conspiracy theories.

By chance, the last post caught her attention.

"The Winter Soldier has been present at the edges of human history for the last fifty years. Many believe that he is an assassin controlled by the Soviets, while other believe he is more of a mercenary figure, working for whatever country bids the highest. He is known for his bionic arm and deadly accuracy. If you are on the Soldier's list, you will not live to make it off."

That was all the post said. Avery sat back in her chair and stared out her window, watching the night life buzzing on the streets below. Not bothering to get up from her place at the computer, she eventually fell asleep on the keyboard just as the sun was beginning to shine out over the horizon.


	3. Happenstance

**A/N: Enjoy!**

_"If winter comes, can spring be far behind?"_

_~ Percy Bysshe Shelley_

With her car still in the shop, Avery had to walk home the next night. She started early to avoid being on the street in the dark.

Her eyes were trained on the pavement, occasionally looking up at street names to make sure she was on the right track. The later it got, the less people were on the sidewalk with her. Up ahead, another woman walked by a group of men sitting on a bench. At first sight of the woman, they began making cat calls, clearly intoxicated. The woman walked faster, paying little attention.

Avery, however, really did not want to be hassled. She stopped, looked around, and opted to take a back route through a nearby alleyway. Despite having set out early, she realized that the sun was beginning to set. "Crap," she said under her breath. This was exactly what she had not wanted to happen. Her pace quickened, and she tightened her jean jacket around her in the chilly evening air.

At this point, the alley was more narrow than Avery's arm span. It seemed to be longer than what she had thought. She rifled through her pocket, searching for her phone. Maybe she could get directions to bypass the route with the cat callers.

Of course, the phone told her that there was no service in the dark alley. Avery grumbled to herself before deciding that she should probably turn around and just risk going by the drunk men.

As she slipped her phone back into her pocket, Avery stopped. Just around the corner, she heard voices. Whoever was in that alley at this time of the night was probably not up to anything good, but Avery really needed to know how to get out of there.

Which is why Avery found herself creeping up to the corner and cautiously leaning around.

It took her eyes a minute to focus on what she saw. When she did, her heart nearly stopped. Not ten feet away, two men stood talking in hushed tones.

And one had a gleaming metal arm.

It would be more accurate to say that _one_ of the men talked in hushed tones. The man with the metal arm just listened to him. The speaker was mostly hidden by shadow, and Avery could only catch traces of what he said- "S.H.I.E.L.D.," "Operation," and "Do not fail."

Every instinct screamed at her to run, yet she leaned closer to try and hear more. As she did so, her foot made a loud scraping noise, contacting a wet spot on the gravel. Both men instantly perked up, and the conversation cut off.

A few heartbeats of silence passed. Avery didn't dare breathe.

The speaker waved his hand, as if to say, "Take care of it," then shoved his hands in his pockets and walked the other direction.

The soldier with the metal arm did not move for what felt like forever. Finally, he turned and scaled the wall, ascending up the building with the speed of an olympic rock-climber. With one final flip, he cleared the roof and was gone.

Avery watched. And waited. She stayed motionless for so long that her left foot fell asleep. When she was positive that he really had gone, she turned back, collapsed against the wall and sank to the ground. She covered her face in her hands, wondering at the bad luck she had to be this close to criminals two days in a row.

Her breathing finally slowed, and she gave one final huff before scrambling off the ground. Still leaning on the wall with one hand, she bent to dust off her pants.

_Whump._

Adrenaline surged in Avery's veins she felt herself pinned against the wall at the wrist, the wind knocked out of her as her back hit the wall. She cried out and struggled without thinking, bringing a knee up to kick her assailant. She immediately found her leg pinned to the wall by his. His other hand went over her mouth, and she struggled in earnest, screaming even though all that came out were muffled whimpers.

She thrashed around, but suddenly realized that what was pinning her wrist to the wall felt cold. Metallic.

Avery looked up into empty, ice-blue eyes.

She only had a moment's recognition before thoughts of _I'm going to die here, he's going to kill me and no one will ever know, I'll be on one of those missing person crime shows and they'll never find my body-_

She gasped for air, and made one last desperate attempt.

"I saved your life yesterday! You owe me!" she managed to squeak through his fingers.

He stopped moving. The calculating, detached stare faded into guarded perplexity. His grip slackened, and his hand fell from her mouth.

He said nothing. After a moment, he slowly reached up to take the mask off his mouth. All Avery could hear was the rushing of blood in her ears and her own frantic breathing. His stare burned into her face.

"When did...do you know me?" he asked haltingly. He was still wary of her, and it showed in his expression. Avery made an attempt to calm herself before answering.

"No, I just saw you yesterday, remember? You were in the street, and a car almost hit you. I warned you to get out of the way."

His brow furrowed. He paused a minute before he said, "No. I don't remember."

Avery's breathing had finally slowed. She gulped. "You must've had a lot of near-death experiences yesterday if you don't remember that one."

He grimaced, leaving her conjecture unanswered.

Taking a step back, he let her down from the wall. Neither moved.

They sized each other up. Although he was only a few inches taller than her, his muscular frame told Avery of exactly how much damage he could do. Avery was shocked to realize that he was young- he looked to be in his twenties. He had a handsome face, and smelled like metal and gunpowder. She suddenly became aware of how closely they were standing in the dark alley. Her eyes quickly flitted down to his arm, which no longer whirred when he moved. She guessed someone had repaired it. After all, she had seen the damage Cap did to it with his shield.

His metallic fingers twitched and closed into a fist. He seemed uncomfortable being so close to her, and took another few steps back.

She squinted, noting for the first time that he still had pistols strapped to his thighs. A large assault rifle was slung over his back. This, coupled with his leather outfit, made him look like he was ready to go charging into combat.

"Are you the Winter Soldier?" she blurted.

He remembered himself and straightened, regaining the cold stare. Avery shrunk back a little, really hating her lack of a filter.

"The Winter Soldier does not exist." He shuffled back again, turning to leave. "Forget you saw me. Consider my debt to you paid."

He was quickly disappearing into the darkness. "Wait!" Avery started, reaching toward him. To her surprise, he did wait.

"Why were you fighting Captain America?"

His entire profile went taut as a wire. He spun and walked back to her so speedily that her back bumped up against the wall again in an effort to keep her distance. His metal arm again pinned her a second time. She froze.

"What do you know about him?" he hissed.

He was so focused on the answer to his question that Avery forgot to breathe. His face hovered inches from hers.

"Nothing, I don't know anything!" His eyes narrowed. "I mean, no more than the next person!"

"Which is what?" he pursued.

"Ummm, okay, okay...he's actually from the 1940s. He underwent some genetic experimentation, which is what turned him into a super soldier. He joined the army and fought Nazis, but he had to crash land a plane in the arctic and he froze. They just found him recently, and revived him, and then he saved the world with the Avengers when aliens attacked New York. He's one of the good guys. That's about all I know, I promise!"

As soon as Avery said "joined the army," she saw that she had struck a chord. He winced, stumbling back and clutching his head.

"...Are you okay?"

His teeth clenched. He was visibly struggling with something. The man grunted, and breathed quickly through his teeth. His back bumped the wall. She started forward, as if to catch him.

He looked back up, and his hands left his head. What Avery saw almost made her jump back again. The empty stare had been replaced by one of pure agony. Whatever he was remembering, it caused him unimaginable torment. As he looked at her, he winced again, gave a muffled cry, and fell to his knees, head buried in his hands.

A few heartbeats passed. Every few seconds, he seized, wracked with pain. Avery stood, unsure of what to do. She looked around, at war with herself.

She shook a little, then swallowed her fear. As cautiously as she could, she inched toward him. Both her hands were raised in a placating gesture.

"Hey," she whispered softly. "It's okay. You're okay."

She got to her knees on the ground before him. Tentatively, she reached out a hand. Her fingers met the back of his fist, which still twitched in pain. He did not respond to her contact. She gulped, wondering why the heck she was reaching out to a _known assassin_-

Ever so gently, she uncurled his fist and held it between her hands. "_Hey_."

He stopped moving. Slowly, he raised his head and met her eyes. They were filled with tears. A few spilled over and ran down his cheeks, but his face expressed nothing. He was back to being the cold, emotionless soldier. If she looked close enough, Avery could almost detect a flicker of fear in his eyes.

He stood suddenly. In a flash, he had the mask back on his face. With one last hard stare at the girl, he turned and ran soundlessly away. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.

All that could be heard was the breeze, faintly whispering after him. Avery was left sitting in the dark alley alone, wondering if it had all been a hallucination.


	4. Fortuity

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for all the reviews- they really do encourage me to keep writing, so keep 'em coming! This chapter's a little break from the ****angsty-ness to come (translation: Bucky will be back soon). Hope you enjoy it; I know I enjoyed writing it!**

"_Every man is a divinity in disguise, a god playing the fool."_

_~Ralph Waldo Emerson_

Avery didn't tell anyone what she had seen. Mostly, she was afraid. If she said anything, she felt like S.W.A.T. agents would instantly be ramming down her door to arrest her- or kill her, like they tried to do to Captain America in the clip on the news. And if they found her, she wouldn't have a news crew to stand between her and certain death. She couldn't even defend herself if it came down to it.

In other words, she was way out of her league.

For the safety of her family and her own, she resolved to carry on like nothing had happened. The next morning, she picked up her car from the shop and drove to work in the dark. She kept her head down as she unlocked the McDonald's and began setting up for the day. Avery was the hardest worker there, so she was used to being the first in. Most of the other employees- all about her age- usually just sat in the back, flicking empty straw wrappers at each other, while she and another girl took the breakfast and lunch rushes. The manager didn't care, as long as someone was getting the job done.

As Avery was wiping down the countertop, she heard the door open. She quickly pinned on her nametag and plastered on the fake smile she gave to all of her customers.

"Welcome to McDonald's, how can I help you this m- Oh."

She stopped, realizing that it was just Carmen, the only other employee who ever helped Avery. She was usually the second one to arrive in the morning.

"Morning," she said with a shy smile at Avery's expense.

Avery liked Carmen. Not only was she actually helpful around the restaurant, but she was also soft-spoken in a sweet way—so much so, that Avery often had to come to her aid when a customer was being particularly rude or abusive. She was a few years younger than Avery, and was always wearing some kind of pink accessory in her thick black hair. This morning was no different. Avery suppressed a smile as she noticed the large neon pink feather barrette that pinned her friend's hair back.

"Hey," Avery said back. "How'd your soccer game go last night?"

Carmen's face lit up as she walked over to help Avery get the restaurant ready. "We won! We beat 'em 3-0. It was a massacre."

Avery gave a good-natured scoff. "Nice."

"You should come to the next one."

"Yeah, maybe," Avery said truthfully.

"How 'bout you, did you get home okay last night?"

Avery quieted, flashes of memory of the Winter Solider greeting her. She steeled herself; she had never been a particularly good liar. "Yeah, it was fine," she said nonchalantly, turning to the back counter to hide her face.

She was met by silence. She turned back around, and saw that Carmen was staring at her oddly.

"What?" Avery asked, a little defensively.

"...You sure everything was okay?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Why?"

"You sound like you do when we get a rude customer and you're faking being happy. Your voice got all squeaky."

"Really?" Avery said, suddenly aware of her voice's squeaky tone. Carmen gave her a pointed look. Avery huffed, and consciously deepened her voice. "Seriously, it was fine." She turned back again, and saw Carmen shrug out of the corner of her eye.

"If you say so."

Avery gave a small puff of relief, and changed the subject.

Eventually, the other workers arrived and assumed their position in the back. _At least I can always count on them to do nothing, _Avery thought.

The morning was hectic, as usual. Avery stopped thinking, and operated off instinct. _Smile, greet, order, relay._ Over and over. Carmen was just as busy to her left. Avery lost track of how many customers she served. She was just thinking to herself that she really needed a raise, when she heard an enormous splash followed by cursing come from the back of the store.

Avery looked over the shoulder of the person she was serving just in time to see a man shove Carmen back as she apologized profusely. Amidst running back and forth with trays, she must have collided with the man, who was now covered in coke.

He shook himself, trying to dry off. "Are you that stupid that you can't even carry a tray anywhere? _God_. They must only hire the retards at this place."

Carmen had gone bright red, and as tears welled up, she attempted to pat him down with a wad of napkins. "I'm _so_ sorry, sir, let me help-"

Without warning, he shoved her again, this time, so hard that she stumbled back. Avery's nostrils flared. She slammed her headpiece down on the counter, and with an apologetic "One moment please," to the customer at the counter, marched over to the commotion. A few people had turned to watch.

"Excuse me, _sir,"_ she said with some venom as she stepped in front of Carmen, "but you don't need to shove her. She was just trying to help."

"Hey, I don't need some punk-ass kid telling me what to do." He took a threatening step toward her. Avery looked up at him defiantly, realizing that he had to be at least 6'4." Some of the color drained out of her face, and Carmen shrunk back behind her.

"Then I suggest you leave so you don't have to listen to me anymore." Avery's voice wavered as she clenched her fists.

"You little bitch," he spit as he raised a hand to slap her. Avery flinched and threw up an arm in anticipation of the oncoming blow.

"Is there a problem here?" a voice said from their right. Everyone paused in mid-action.

The three looked up. A tall man in a baseball cap and sweatshirt stood not far away, tensed, as if to jump in at any moment. He held the aggressor in an unbreakable stare, daring him to make a move. The air crackled. The restaurant was silent.

The rude customer gave him the up-down. Something shifted in his expression, and he took a step back. Avery didn't blame him. She wouldn't want to fight the guy either. His entire air spoke of quiet confidence, and even through his sweatshirt, it was clear that he was ripped.

"It's too early for this crap," the customer decided as he backed away. "Learn how to do your job next time," he threw at Carmen and Avery. He exited the store, door slamming. After glancing furtively at the stranger, most people in the store directed their attention back to their meals.

Avery looked back to the man who had stood up for them. He watched the customer leave, then turned to the two teenagers.

"You girls alright?" he said, walking over to them. Carmen, still mute from embarrassment, just nodded. Avery said, "Yeah. Thanks. We really appreciate that."

Upon closer inspection, Avery noted his honest blue eyes and square jawline. He was extremely handsome. Apparently, Carmen had noticed, too. Avery could have sworn that she swooned a little. His mannerisms reminded Avery of someone-maybe an actor?

"Can we offer you a free meal?" Avery ventured.

He smiled a little and shook his head. "That's alright, I'll pay like everyone else."

"Well...at least let us move you to the front of the line. I'm sure no one will mind," she said. Avery didn't wait for an answer as she strode back to the counter. Carmen watched in silent fascination as he shoved his hands in his pockets and followed. Her eyes were about the size of dinner plates.

He looked up at the board, and his brow furrowed. "So, uh... how does this work?" He shrugged a little bashfully. "I've never been in one of these places before."

"Oh." Avery quickly masked her surprise and explained, "You just tell me which of these meals you want, and I'll give them to you. Simple as that."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Wow. Okay. Uh..." He proceeded to order enough food to feed a third world country. When he saw he expression, he said amusedly, "Don't worry, it's not all for me."

Avery coughed and said, "Right. This might take a little while. One second." She leaned around him to look for Carmen. "Hey, Car-"

Carmen appeared so fast that Avery almost got whiplash. She began working on the order before Avery could even finish. Avery joined her, not wanting to disappoint the man that had helped them.

A few minutes passed before the two girls placed all six bags of food on the counter. He paid in cash. As he was picking them up to leave, Avery stopped him.

"Hey. Really. Thanks."

His eyes met hers, and he donned another quiet smile. "Any time, ma'am. Happy to help."

As he tipped his baseball cap, something in Avery's mind clicked. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

Her eyes widened almost as huge as Carmen's. "You're-"

The smile fell from his face as he realized his cover was blown. He shook his head ever so slightly. _Don't say it._

A thousand questions flew to Avery's lips- _Why are you out in public? Isn't S.H.I.E.L.D. trying to kill you?!_- but she forcibly shut her mouth.

Steve Rogers grinned a little, seeing the shock written all over her face. He leaned in as he continued grabbing bags, and just loud enough for her to hear, whispered, "Everyone has to eat."

He backed up, gave one last grin and nod, and left. Avery stood for a minute, dumbfounded. Carmen ran up to her.

"What?! What did he tell you? AVERY, what did he say?!"

Avery shook her head. It was her turn to be mute. She had just sold a bunch of Happy Meals to Captain America.

Another customer stepped up to the counter. Beside her, Carmen muttered threateningly, "We are not done with this conversation."

Avery shook herself and went back to serving the customers. She didn't get a single order right for the rest of the day.


	5. Consternation

**A/N: Thanks again to everyone for the reviews! The next update may take a little while, what with finals going on and such. But trust me, the next few chapters will be worth the wait. ;) Hail hydra.**

"_When the star dies, its eye closes; tired of watching, it flies back to its first bright dream."_

_~Dejan Stojanovic_

As it got nearer to the end of her shift, Avery found herself constantly checking her watch. Time was _dragging_ on. The minute the clock struck two, she was out the door. Avery especially wanted to avoid any prying questions from Carmen about their "rescuer"- with the frazzled state she was now in, she didn't trust herself to keep quiet. She walked- almost ran- right by her friend without making eye contact.

Now, not only had Avery had some close calls with an apparently legendary assassin, but she also came into direct contact with the exact man said assassin was trying to target. She was left standing smack in the middle of two terrifyingly powerful forces.

Which is why Avery now found herself incredibly anxious to get home.

Of course, the traffic in D.C. did not want to cooperate with her plans. She sat in gridlock for most of the journey home, per usual. But this time, she was having great difficulty keeping her fists from pounding the car horn.

Not long into the drive, her mind began to wander. At first, her thoughts were marked by giddy disbelief:

_Holy crap. I just met Captain Friggin' America. Why didn't I ask for an autograph. This is not happening. Seriously, how did that even happen. What is going on. Ohhhh my gosh, if Carmen knew _(here, she guffawed to herself)…

Soon, her dark imagination got the best of her, and her mind changed course to _What if S.H.I.E.L.D. saw him talk to me? What if they show up at my door? What if...they're already at my house? What if they hurt mom and dad?!_

Avery broke into a cold sweat at the last thought. All humor left her as her hands moistened on the steering wheel. In spite of herself, she imagined her dad as he walked in the door, just home from his business trip, having the wind knocked out of him by a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. She could see her parents tied up and gagged in a corner of the apartment, guns to their head, as her mom cried and her dad's eyes filled with terror. She could hear their faceless captor bring up a hand to shush them as she herself ran in-

Avery slammed on the breaks as the car in front of her stopped short. Her parents were all she had. No siblings, very few close friends, no extended family. She would never forgive herself if something happened to them. Avery didn't even have a plan of what to do if S.H.I.E.L.D. _was _in her house. In her mind, she imagined that she would offer herself up to go with them, and they would leave her parents alone. A thought at the back of her mind nagged that even that may not stop them from doing anything. Forcing herself to focus on her surroundings, she estimated that she was still about ten minutes from home.

She grit her teeth as she rode out the traffic.

When the road was finally clear, she stepped on the gas and drove as fast as she could without attracting the attention of a cop. Finally, she arrived at their apartment complex, already tensing to jump out of the car. She swung into the parking lot rather recklessly. On any other day, the faint smell of burning rubber would have startled her and prompted a meticulous check of her easily-compromised car. But today, she didn't even notice it.

Backpack slung over one shoulder, she sprinted up the stairs, two at a time, to the front door. Her hand shook as she groped around the pack for her keys. She struggled for a moment at the lock, blowing hair out of her flushed face, then threw the door open.

"Mom? Dad?" she yelled.

No answer. The silence was deafening. Avery felt tears coming on.

"MOM?! DAD?" She ran down the hall. Almost blinded by the welling up of her eyes, she ran smack into someone and screamed, readying herself to be gagged and dragged away-

"Woah," a familiar voice with a mocking lilt said, as two hands gripped her by the shoulders and steadied her. "Calm down."

Avery looked up to see her dad, brow a little twisted at her reaction. Upon recognizing him, she sputtered, trying to calm down. It was suddenly apparent how much she had overreacted. A few tears spilled over. She told herself to get a grip.

Her dad, being the non-expressive man that he was, balked at his daughter's tears. "What happened?"

Avery tried to catch her breath. In her hesitation, her dad began spitting out questions. "Did someone hurt you?" She shook her head. His shoulders dropped a little, and he continued, "Did your car break down again?"

Avery choked out a laugh as she wiped her tears. "No."

Her mom must have heard the anxious notes in their voices from the kitchen, because she walked into the hall. "Is that Aver-"

When she caught sight of her daughter, her welcoming grin dropped into an expression of pure motherly concern. "Oh, honey, what happened?"

She ran over and hugged her. Avery's dad stood by helplessly and said, "That's what I asked, but she won't tell me!"

"Well, if you would _give _me a minute," Avery said in slight annoyance as she stepped back from her mom.

She took a minute just to look at her parents, standing unharmed in the hallway. Avery had gotten her height, pallid complexion and sense of humor from her dad, but otherwise, she was a visual carbon copy of her mom- they had the same dark, wild curly hair, the same dull, greenish eyes, even the same tendency toward asthma attacks.

She was so happy they were both safe, she almost started crying again. However, she opted to muffle her emotions for now. Her mind was a jumble of words as she quickly tried to think up an excuse for her tears.

"It's not really a big deal, I just- I mixed up a bunch of orders today, and Josh threatened to fire me."

It was only half a lie. While she _had_ been extremely inefficient with her work after her surprise visit from "Captain Friggin' America," the manager, Josh, was actually a huge teddy bear. He couldn't even bring himself to fire the useless employees that screwed around in the back, let alone one of the two workers that ever actually _worked_.

Avery kept that information to herself, and attempted to look dismayed. "It was just... a really rough day."

Both her parents seemed a little relieved that nothing worse had happened. After allowing them to comfort her with a few hugs and words of reassurance, Avery excused herself.

"I think I'm gonna go upstairs. I kind of want to be alone for a little while."

Both of Avery's parents nodded, and her mom said, "Sure, baby, go ahead. We'll be down here if you need us." They watched with mild concern as she walked up the stairs. Avery had never been the biggest extrovert, so her parents were used to her verging-on-reclusive habits.

She made the journey upstairs to her room and flung her backpack on the bed. She then made her way over to the large window in the corner of the room, unlocked it, and flung it open. Taking care not to lose her footing, she stepped out onto the fire escape and scaled her way up the ladder on the side of the apartment. Anyone else would have questioned the integrity of the rusty steps, but to Avery, they were old friends; they offered an escape from the hectic life below out onto a roof where she could clear her head. Actually, she was grateful for the ladder's rusty appearance- it ensured that no one else in the apartment complex would ever dare to join her.

When she reached the top and pulled herself over, she straightened, paused, and stood for a moment. The view from the roof mostly consisted of the tops of other apartment buildings, interrupted here and there by a few trees, but her view of the sky was unobstructed and vast. She took a deep breath and strolled across the expanse of gray concrete, relishing the familiarity of her escape. The behemoth clouds above moved gently with the breeze, rolling slowly and lackadaisically by. The sounds of the city traffic below were faint. Cool, fresh air tickled Avery's face, and agitated her curls as she stood.

She gathered her sweatshirt around her, shivering in the middle of her little concrete island. The big, gray box of an air conditioning unit in the corner hummed quietly, further deafening Avery to the distant sounds of cars rushing in the streets below. She eased herself onto it and sat with crossed legs.

Avery watched the clouds drift by in total silence for hours. She pondered the insane situations she had found herself in lately, wondering why in the world she suddenly found herself in something resembling a movie. This kind of stuff just didn't happen to normal people. And if it did, those normal people were the extras on the screen- collateral damage from some major catastrophic event the movie focused on. If there was anything Avery wanted to avoid, it was dying like a faceless extra, not even getting a chance to live her life before it was snuffed out.

If she kept her head down and consciously tried to avoid men in spandex uniforms or anything remotely out of the ordinary, she reasoned, everything would probably go back to the way it was. At this thought, her heart felt an echo of a pang. It seemed like her brief encounters with the two legends would be where her little adventure came to a screeching halt.

But maybe that was worth it if it guaranteed her safety. If she did become another faceless person in the crowd, she would never have to worry about getting strategically assassinated in a back alley because she presented a threat to S.H.I.E.L.D. Avery continued mulling over these thoughts, completely oblivious to the world around her.

It was not until the clouds were lined with the pastel pinks and purples of sunset that she realized how long she had been sitting. She suppressed the urge to yawn and straightened, attempting to rid her back of a newly formed kink, courtesy of her terrible posture.

As she stretched, it occurred to her that the hairs on the back of her neck were sticking up. It took her a moment to place the exact sensation, but then she realized- she was being watched.

It dawned on her that she may have had the feeling for at least the past hour, but had been so lost in her thoughts that her subconscious had tucked the feeling away. She gulped, and her stomach dropped to the ground. In all her years, no one but her had ever come up to the roof.

Avery sat completely still, listening.

All that she heard was the continued whisper of the breeze, which seemed to urge her to behold the roof's second occupant.

Finally, she summoned the courage to turn.

Not five feet away, the Winter Soldier stood motionless on the roof, watching.


	6. Investigation

**So this one's a little longer to make up for my equally as long absence. Keep those reviews coming, beloved readers! All input is valued!**

"_Though my soul may set in darkness, _

_It will rise in perfect light,_

_I have loved the stars too fondly _

_To be fearful of the night"_

_~Sarah Williams_

The world stopped.

The rustling leaves went limp.

The noise from the cars below vanished.

The tickle of the wind was gone.

Avery couldn't breathe.

She stumbled back as their eyes locked. The back of her legs hit the short wall that traced the perimeter of the roof.

He made no move to advance on her, but the nearness of his lithe, lethal frame terrified her anyway.

He wore no mask. The bags under his eyes were darker than they had been before, like he hadn't slept for years. His arm reflected the fading sunlight. His expression was neutral- except for his eyebrows, slightly knitted, as if he was in deep thought.

Every muscle in her body was taut as she readied to flee or fight- though she knew she stood absolutely no realistic chance against him.

It seemed her life wouldn't go back to normal, after all. He would kill her, and her entire future would be stifled in a few short seconds. Who knew how long it would take for her parents to find her body on the roof, their little girl, lying bloated and lifeless in the heat of the summer sun?

Avery straightened at the visual. If she was going to die, she may as well go down kicking.

She never broke the stare as she cleared her dry throat. With anger evident in her voice, she said, "So, you're gonna kill me after all?"

She was faintly aware that she was shaking.

He made no hurried attempt to answer. Giving her the once-over, he noted her defensive stance. Avery watched him like a hawk, and his eyes flitted back up to hers.

After an eternity, he gave a curt, militant shake of the head.

She raised an eyebrow.

This had to be some kind of trap. He was trying to make her let her guard down so she would be an easy kill. As soon as she turned her back, Avery figured, he would be there to snap her neck. Assassins didn't just let you go scott-free, especially not twice.

And especially not when they sought you ought like this.

Not believing him for a second, Avery managed, "Then what do you want?"

Her glare held him in place. She waited to see anything in his dead, ice blue eyes that would warn her of an impending attack, and gripped the wall behind her with sweaty palms. If he moved toward her, she would jump. The fall might not kill her, and she would have a better chance of getting away from him if someone on the street saw her.

The silence was deafening while she waited for an answer. The Soldier was so still that, had he not flexed his left hand, she would have thought he was a statue. The quiet mechanical hum the hand made as it twitched diverted his attention to his arm. He lifted it, and Avery felt a scream rising in her throat-

-But he didn't move to attack her. Instead, he raised it to get a better look at it, as if remembering for the first time that it was there. He opened and closed his fist a few more times, listening to the clicks and whirrs of the joints.

He stopped and frowned again, going completely still. He just...stared at his arm. Saying nothing.

Avery would have picked that moment to slip quietly off the roof, but she realized that the fire escape was behind him. She would have to get closer to him to get by, which was not going to happen. And she didn't feel like risking a jump just yet. So that wasn't going to happen either.

Her options were limited.

Avery wasn't sure how much time passed while she waited for him to answer, but at this point, the sun had almost completely disappeared.

"Why are you here?" she repeated after hesitating a moment, noting how gingerly he moved the metal arm. "Are you...hurt?"

He visibly jolted and snapped back to attention, his eyes again meeting hers. Avery shivered at the emptiness of his glare and shrunk back.

Finally, he spoke.

"Why do you care?" he spoke. The inquiry was a command for information. His voice was monotone. Mechanical. Just like everything else about him.

"Um- I'm sorry?" she squeaked, unnerved.

"Why did you warn me about the car? Why did you help me in the alley?" he continued unflinchingly, in a subdued tone. His eyes bored into her. The inhuman lack of curiosity in his questions was unsettling.

She felt like a cornered animal. The onslaught continued.

"Do you work for S.H.I.E.L.D.? Did they send you to track me?"

Avery broke in, "No, _no!_ I'm in high school, of course I don't work for S.H.I.E.L.D.!"

She barely finished before he demanded, "Then why?"

Avery opened her mouth, closed it, and frowned. "I don't know—that's—that's just what people do for each other."

It was clear her words didn't compute. He waited for her to elaborate.

She gave a helpless scoff at his incomprehension, trying to overcome her body's trembling.

"Well, if you saw someone about to, I don't know, jump off a bridge, wouldn't you try to stop them?!" she asked.

His face was unreadable as he replied without hesitation, "Not unless I was ordered to."

Avery's chest surged with disbelief, and she attempted not to show how indignant she felt. Would he really be so callous as to stand by and watch a death he could prevent, without even blinking an eye? Did he get some kind of sick satisfaction in playing God, in being in control of whether someone lived or died?

As she looked at him again, somehow she doubted that this was the case. Someone as cold as the man before her couldn't conceal such a sadistically bloodthirsty streak. She did not detect any flicker of perverted pleasure when he had given his answer.

He had simply stated a fact. No deceptions. No double-talk.

They both knew he was being completely truthful. He would do whatever he was ordered, whenever he was told.

An icy trickle of fear slid into her stomach.

"Did they order you to come here, then?" she asked, dreading the answer. Had they somehow found out about her surprise run-in with the Captain?

Once again, he looked at her like what she said didn't compute. His pause gave her a small ounce of relief—if he was going to kidnap her for interrogation, he probably would have done so already.

The puzzled look remained inexplicably plastered on his face. She wasn't sure why, as it was a pretty straightforward question. She was beginning to get the impression that even _he_ didn't truly know why he was there.

He was an odd mix of stereotypes, this man, who moved with the fluidity of a jungle predator, yet thought and acted like a piece of faulty equipment.

He opted to completely ignore her question and continue ruminating on his own hidden thoughts. Avery felt more than a little uncomfortable pinned under his inscrutable gaze. Eventually, she summoned up all the bravery she had left to break the silence.

"What was that in the alley, anyway?"

His nostrils flared, and he faltered, gritting his teeth.

"It seemed like you were remembering something," she continued, not really sure where she was going with this. "Were you?" Avery pressed.

"No," he cut her off, closing his eyes, head twitching from side to side, "No. It's not my job to remember." He kept his eyes shut as his head turned away. Unconsciously, his good hand drifted up to his temple. He looked like someone trying to stop a migraine.

"Does this happen a lot?" she asked quietly, gesturing to his pained expression.

He opened his eyes, and his hand dropped. His startled stare was full of fear, but whether it was of Avery's last question or the impending threat of another episode, she wasn't sure. Everything in his face told her that it did, in fact, happen a lot.

And it terrified him.

She could faintly hear sounds of his suddenly labored breathing.

She panicked. What would she do with him if he had another episode here?! Maybe if she could distract him long enough, he wouldn't start seizing again-

Her eyes darted back and forth for a second before she took a breath and began to babble.

"Look at the sky tonight! It hasn't been this clear in a while. Usually there's too much pollution to see much of anything, but I guess that's the price you pay for living in the city. Wow, look over there," she strolled over to the far side of the roof and pointed vaguely in that direction. "You can see the Little Dipper if you squint."

She risked a glance over at him. He was staring at her like she had some kind of mental disability, but she noted with a flicker of triumph that he was no longer breathing heavily.

"Come. Here," she demanded with nerve that shocked her as much as it did him.

A few beats of silence passed. Either he realized that she was trying to help, or he was so used to following orders that it was second nature, but, one hesitant step at a time, he shuffled over to her vicinity.

As soon as he began to move, Avery quickly averted her gaze to the stars again. Her heart was pounding, and a little voice inside her head was still yelling that his whole act could just be a way of distracting her before he went in for the kill-

She was aware of his presence a couple feet behind her. His stare was burning a hole in her back. She continued to ramble.

"Just think— there's millions of galaxies out there that we can't even begin to imagine, different planets and stars and solar systems..."

The breeze started up again and tousled her hair. He stood soundlessly, listening to her.

"I used to want to be an astronaut," she continued. "I wanted to go up there and see what it was like to be surrounded by nothing. No noise, no other people, not even gravity- just calm. Silence."

After a breath, she went on, "I bet actually being up there is more stressful than that, but I've heard that seeing the Earth from another vantage point really makes you re-evaluate stuff. How big the world is. How many other people on Earth have dreams and hopes and fears just like you. You could see one of them in a crowd and they wouldn't be more than a passing face. But really, you'd be the same to them."

She knew she wasn't making much sense. She stole another glance at him, and was surprised to find his eyes not on her, but turned upward, regarding the stars with faint suspicion.

Some of the tension had left his shoulders while she monologued. She kept going.

"I did this project on supernovas when I was in Eighth grade. Apparently, when a star explodes, it puts off this _unbelievable _blast of light. Sometimes, scientists glimpse these explosions, right? But because the light takes so long to travel through space, most of the ones they _do _see have actually been over for millions of years. It's crazy."

She was met by silence. Suppressing a bitter smirk, she said, "Wow, this is the first time I've been able to talk about science this long without getting called a nerd. You're a good listener."

She turned her head to give him a sly smile. When he looked at her, his mouth didn't move, but a dim spark of amusement flashed in his eyes.

She was shocked when she received even this little response. It seemed that he was, too. His eyes glazed over for a minute. He looked away. Both fell silent.

Attempting to appear at ease, Avery took a few steps toward the ledge and leaned on the wall, staring up at the broad expanse of night sky, peppered with pinpricks of light.

She heard faint whirring behind her, and assumed he was clenching and unclenching his fist again.

She bit her lip to force herself to hold still.

"Do you spend a lot of time up here?" he asked suddenly, making her jolt a little.

Avery absentmindedly realized that the mechanical tone with which he spoke was partly due to traces of some kind of accent. It took her a minute to place it, but she realized it sounded something akin to Russian.

She pushed this out of her mind as she debated whether to tell a _professional killer_ exactly where he could find her every night without fail.

Then again, he had already found her once, and had done so without her help. Plus, so far, he hadn't done anything.

"Yeah. A lot," she stated simply. "I'd ask why _you _care, but you probably wouldn't answer."

She heard the wry smile in her own voice, and knew that he heard it, too.

They both started at the slide and bump of her room's window being opened.

"Avery? You okay up there?" her mom's voice drifted up.

"Yeah, mom, fine," she said quickly, praying that her mom would shut it again and stay far away from the potentially still dangerous situation on the roof. Avery looked nervously back at him. He watched her closely.

"Do you need anything?" her mom asked.

"_No_, mom, I'm _fine_," Avery replied, somewhat forcefully.

A muffled "Okay," was heard, followed by another roll and thud.

Avery breathed a sigh of relief.

She turned again, expecting to find his ever-observant stare trained on her, but the roof was empty. He had slipped away again without a word.

She sagged heavily on the wall, knowing that she would be out there for quite some time before she could process what just happened.

This was becoming a pattern. How much longer would she have to walk on eggshells because a legendary murderer seemed to turn up wherever she went?

As her knees gave out and she collapsed on the ground in sudden relief, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was still being watched.


	7. Incubus

**A/N: {Blood trigger warning}**

_"Do not ignore dreams. They are a line from the past to the future. All nightmares are real."_

_~Max Gladstone_

At some point later that night, Avery managed to stumble her way back down the fire escape and topple into her bed. She was out almost instantly when she hit the pillows. She didn't even bother to pull the covers up.

It wasn't long before her fitful, restless sleep gave way to a dream.

In the dream, she stood in a vast, green field. It was deathly still. No wind blew, no grass rustled. She was blind and deaf to everything but the perfect expanse of night sky above her, swirling and glittering like a Van Gogh painting.

The stars and moon were unobstructed by any clouds, and seemed to give off a gentle, warm glow. Thousands upon thousands of her familiar starry friends laughed down at her from the heavens. To Avery, they seemed much closer than normal. Close enough to touch.

When this thought formed, she reached out toward the star that shone the brightest. As she stretched toward it, it grew brighter, so that it eventually emitted more light than the silvery moon on her left.

Reality warped around her. Suddenly, the star _was_ close enough to touch, even though her feet remained firmly planted on the ground.

She faltered. Not only was the star almost blindingly bright, but it pulsed with a heat that was noticeably different from the others.

Avery couldn't stop herself. Fingers splayed, she rested her hand on the center of the star.

All at once, the warm, white light leeched out of the star, and it turned a blazing, violent red. The gentle heat was gone. Where it had once been, a bone-chilling cold sapped the warmth Avery's hand.

She recoiled and fell back, landing on her rear.

The star was growing bigger, angrier, brighter. It advanced on her like it was alive.

And like it meant to kill her.

Everything was bathed in its jarring red light. She scrambled backwards in a blind panic, trying to escape, when she realized with a jolt that the ground was wet.

She glanced down and saw that her hands and her clothes were soaked with blood. It seeped up from the ground on all sides.

The star kept coming, burning her into the ground with its merciless wrath.

The earth beneath her began to tremble. The distant rumbling turned into shaking so violent that Avery thought she might be sick. Blood kept leaking up from the ground.

Out of nowhere, a mind-numbing CRACK split the air, and the earth broke open in an enormous fissure.

The fissure divided and grew, hairline fractures multiplying and snaking over the earth like long, spindly fingers.

The fissures raced toward Avery. Her legs dropped out from under her as a crack yawned and she fell into the earth, screaming. The star above her regarded her icily before slipping back into the sky.

It wasn't over. Instead of hitting the ground or burning up in the lava of the earth's crust, Avery smacked into a wall of water at the bottom of the gaping crevasse.

Except, she realized, it wasn't water.

The liquid was red and thick.

She flailed and kicked, but an unseen force pulled her down, down, down into the endless sea of blood. It was hot and sticky as it choked her, filling her nose and ears and mouth. She opened her mouth to scream, but the salty, metallic liquid rushed in and silenced her.

She was drowning.

She was _drowning_.

She was-

She snapped up in bed, gasping, as she ripped the covers off of her in a knee-jerk reaction. Her eyes darted back and forth for a few moments before coming to rest on the computer, the window, the bed.

It had just been a dream.

No.

A nightmare.

She sat still, trying to catch her breath and come back to reality. She didn't often have dreams that were so real, but this one-

Avery shuddered. Looking at the window again, she noticed that she had beaten the sunrise. The clock read 4:13 a.m.

She groaned inwardly, realizing she must have only gotten around an hour of sleep.

She was so unnerved by the nightmare that going back to sleep was out of the question. As quietly as she could, she shifted off the bed and got to her feet. Once out of the covers, she felt her clothes sticking to her. She had sweated clean through them.

Some part of her hoped that she hadn't been making noise as she dreamt. Every time her parents and her had to share a hotel room, they always mocked her for how she talked in her sleep.

Wincing in discomfort at her damp t-shirt and shorts, she peeled them off, slipped into the shower, and rubbed herself briskly with a towel, but not without tripping in the dark a few times. After no small amount of fumbling around, she went down to the kitchen to make some tea. She dumped almost a quarter of a bottle of honey in the mug, desperately needing to be jolted awake.

Her frequent encounters with danger were not good for her mental health, she decided as she eased onto the living room couch in the dark. Noting the scratchy plaid throw muddled on the corner of the couch, she pulled it onto her, shivering in the cold of the empty room. She grasped her tea mug with both hands, trying not to let its warmth remind her of the red star.

If the dream had left her with anything, it was a tingling premonition that the Winter Soldier wasn't done with her yet.


	8. Aberration

**My reviewers are my favorite people on earth. You guys are the bomb. This one's for you!**

_"A few observations and much reasoning lead to error; many observations and a little reasoning to truth."_

~Alexis Carrel

"What do you mean, _'You don't feel like talking about it?'_" Carmen said somewhere between a yell and a hiss, slamming down a meal tray.

Avery winced and glanced nervously around. It was mid-morning, so the first few waves of customers had already piled into the McDonald's. She desperately hoped that it was too busy for anyone to hear her excited friend, but she noted with dismay that a few customers had already looked up. Besides the fact that she hated having people stare at her, Avery really didn't want anyone else to know that Captain America had been there. He had obviously been undercover, and she would never reveal him just to assuage her lovesick friend's curiosity.

"Carmen, shush," she whispered. "I just don't want to talk about it _here_, okay?" _Or anywhere_, she finished silently.

She started toward the kitchen door, hoping the conversation would stop there.

Carmen, however, scampered after her, tripping over herself in desperation. She ignored Avery's not-so-subtle subtle attempts to close the door behind her.

Both girls filed into the kitchen, where practically every surface was stainless steel. A giant wash tub in the corner was next to the typical 'Employees must wash hands before returning to work' sign. A huge freezer hummed at the back of the room, where the other totally unhelpful employees were sitting on the floor, talking amongst themselves.

"But- _Avery_-" Carmen gasped indignantly, stepping in front of her.

Avery shook her head and pressed her lips together, stepping around the smaller girl. She began dumping the next round of freshly cut fries into the vat of bubbling oil, jumping back a little when it gave a particularly loud hiss.

Sensing she wasn't getting anywhere, Carmen changed tactics and put on her best 'kicked puppy' expression.

"If you can't tell me what he said to you, can you at least tell me what his name was? I know you recognized him from somewhere."

Avery heaved a frustrated sigh and spun to face her. "Why does it matter?! You're probably never going to see him again! And he probably has a girlfriend!"

Carmen flushed crimson. "You don't know that. You don't know any of that."

A beat passed, and Avery went back to preparing the food. The silence that filled the room made her hope she hadn't crushed Carmen's fragile dreams too quickly. It was easy to forget that she was younger, and way less thick-skinned.

Carmen suddenly picked up an empty potato sack and started whacking Avery with it. Avery let out a cry of surprise.

"_Now. tell. me._" The sack practically cracked like a whip as Carmen wielded it.

"Ow! Pfft, Carmen, stop! Stop!"

Between whacks, Avery actually considered giving the poor girl a name for her mystery crush. But, she told herself, Carmen wasn't stupid- it wouldn't be long before she put two and two together and realized only so many people named "Steve" looked exactly like a certain superhero.

She bit her tongue, and made the split-second decision to lie again.

"I don't know his name, okay?" she pushed Carmen back, snatching the sack out of her hand and putting it back on the counter. "I think he works for my dad; I've seen him around his office before."

Avery mentally patted herself on the back. Her lies were getting smoother.

Instead of being deterred, Carmen's eyes lit up and she grabbed Avery's shoulders. "SO ASK YOUR DAD! He'll know his name!"

Avery face-palmed. Voice muffled, she replied in monotone, "If I ask my dad what his name is, will you _please_ get back to work and serve the line of six billion out there? I can't do everything by myself."

She gave a vague gesture to the tiny window in the kitchen door, through which a line of customers stretching out to the street was visible.

"Uh oh," Carmen said, eyes a little wide. She turned back to her friend. "Deal."

Righting the comically big pink barrette in her hair, she trotted toward the door. As she pushed it open, she turned back to Avery and said, "Don't think I'll forget, Avery Belton. Because I won't." She jabbed an accusing finger.

Avery smirked and raised an eyebrow. "As long as you promise not to beat me with a sack again."

Carmen snorted and finally passed through the door. Avery turned back to the countertop. The smile fell from her face as she continued feeding potatoes into the slicing machine.

True, she was a little pleased her lying skills had improved, but she still felt guilty about deceiving her friend.

She told herself that the lie was definitely for a greater cause. In her own way, she was helping the Captain by not letting word get out of his general whereabouts.

It wasn't long before she was distracted by the demanding customers outside that had multiplied far beyond what Carmen could handle.

When Avery's shift ended, she grabbed her keys, deposited her headset in the back, and shrugged her employee vest off at the door. She caught a glimpse of Carmen finishing off an order at the front when she pushed the door open.

Her beat-up Camaro was waiting for her in the back parking lot, and she gratefully plopped down in the front seat, exhausted from being on her feet all day.

Her nose wrinkled. She pinched the collar of her shirt and pressed it to her nose, then flinched back at the strong scent of greasy food. She would never get used to smelling like musty french-fry after work.

With a mighty huff, she ruffled her hair with her fingers and fired up the engine. She slapped the radio on and found a good channel before driving her way through the lot and out onto the busy streets.

Ironically, amidst the hectic traffic, Avery felt at peace for the first time since her siesta on the roof, before...well...

She tensed up again, her temporary contentment spoiled. She wasn't going to lie to herself. The exact intentions of her unpredictable visitor still had her on edge- and, quite frankly, terrified her.

He had thought she was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, but she made it clear enough that she wasn't. His easy acceptance of that fact wasn't what bothered her.

What bothered her was that he stayed long after his questions had been answered. He had even asked her a personal question about how often she went up on the roof.

What could an assassin- one that had no interest in killing her- do with that information?

Unless, she realized, he didn't believe her like he had implied, and he still thought she was a threat. How could she possibly convince him that she really was just a civilian?

Her neck prickled with unease as shards of her bloody nightmare flashed before her eyes.

Maybe she wouldn't be able to convince him. Maybe he would kill her anyway, even after she had helped him at his weakest. She reminded herself that she still didn't know anything about him.

She but her thumbnail while she navigated through the traffic. When one of the lights turned red more abruptly that she was used to, she slammed on the breaks, thrown forward by the inertia of the car.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been caught by this light. It almost never turned red.

Scanning her surroundings, she observed the area in greater detail for the first time. The street was lined by various office buildings, and a handful of neatly-manicured trees peppered the sidewalks. Heat was radiating off the asphalt in visible waves, the city finally losing its mid-morning cool. A number of people in professional wear traipsed up and down the crosswalk, going to and from their jobs.

A knock on her window made her start. "Gah!" she said, head whipping to her left.

An Asian man in a blue vest stood there, smiling, holding a brochure with a picture of the Capitol building.

Avery took a settling breath and rolled down her window. "Hi," she smiled back at him.

"Hello," he said sheepishly. "I'm sorry, but do you happen to know which way the, uh..." He fumbled with his pamphlet and flipped through a few pages. "...Ah, the National Museum of the American Indian is? I'm a little lost."

His English was perfect. Avery had expected him to have a thick accent- D.C. got a ton of foreign tourists around this time of the year. In fact, one of Avery's favorite childhood pastimes was sitting on benches with her dad around the city, watching the tourists pointing in awe at just about every building. They both got more than a few laughs at other peoples' expense.

That being said, Avery did love other peoples' enthusiasm for learning about the United States. She thought it was awesome.

"Sure," she said good-naturedly. "Let's see..." she looked around again, trying to get her bearings. "Um. If you go straight on this road-" she stuck her hand out the window and pointed- "and then take a right, you should be able to see it. You picked a great museum to visit; that's one of my favorites."

She glanced back at him, and saw that he wasn't even looking where she indicated. Instead, his unusually calculative stare was fixed on her, as if he was memorizing her face, her demeanor, her mannerisms. As soon as she made eye contact, he smiled again.

It suddenly seemed fake.

An uncomfortable sensation spilled into Avery's stomach, like liquid lead was filling it and weighing her down. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the light turn green.

"Thank you very much," he nodded and backed up.

"No problem," she said warily. She quickly rolled the window up and sped down the road.

When she looked in her rearview mirror, she glimpsed the man not going down the street as she had directed, but standing still on the sidewalk.

He watched as her car drove away.

"Weirdo," she muttered, trying to comfort herself.

At the next stoplight, she locked the doors. But by the time she got home, she chalked his odd behavior up to cultural differences, and she forgot about it.


End file.
